


A Loving Revenge

by TheOokamiAngel



Category: Beowulf (Poem)
Genre: Gen, retelling from Grendel's mom's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOokamiAngel/pseuds/TheOokamiAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He look as I expected. His eyes dark, filled with blood-lust and hate. He wanted me dead as much as I wanted him dead. He however had no reason. His only reason was fame and pride, mine was for love. That made him the monster, and me the loving mother who had lost her son.</p>
<p>Retelling of the climatic battle in Beowulf from Grendel's mom's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Loving Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> A story I found from my High School English class. Let me know what you think.

I sat waiting, my rage burning through my eyes. My son, my only son. The only thing holding me down to this world, this evil world, was killed brutally by a horrid man. A man named Beowulf, a man I vowed to kill, revenge for my son. Grendel was only a little boy, he was not old enough t o know right from wrong, and now he never would. I felt it, the fire of rage burning away the pain of loss. Beowulf would pay. I sat still and silent. Then I heard him. His steps loud and proud as if he had nothing to fear in the world. His feet fell heavy, echoing off the cave walls, making him sound even more like the monster he was, his shadow reflecting him as a tall and twisted demon. I could see him, not clearly yet, but just enough to make him out. If he had really looked he would have been able to, but his arrogance made him cocky and sure of himself. I would get to him first, attack him quickly, and kill him before he could even react.

My plan set, I leaped at him, my claws grasping and tearing at him. I couldn’t harm him! My claws would not penetrate his armor. I let out a roar, attacking him with my claws furiously. I tried futilely to rip his armor apart. Again and again I failed, I had to try something else. If I couldn't defeat him with my claws I would kill him slowly by starving him. A much more suitable death anyway, slow and painful. The way my dear Grendel went. I’d rip off his arm and let him bleed out if I got the chance, and mount his arm on my door for the world to see.

I leaped at him again, my claws out, but this time rather than attacking him I scooped him up in my arms, dragging him off deeper into my home. He growled, letting out foul curses upon me and Grendel. Moving into the battle room, the light shone allowing me to get my first glance at the man who had killed my son, and him me. I growled looking at him. He look as I expected. His eyes dark, filled with blood-lust and hate. He wanted me dead as much as I wanted him dead. He however had no reason. His only reason was fame and pride, mine was for love. That made him the monster, and me the loving mother who had lost her son.

As his eyes took me in, he roared attempting to pull out his blade. He failed, my grip too tight for him to take the blade out. I laughed, amused by this attempt, letting my grip loosen a bit. He took this chance with a victorious laugh, pulling out his sword and going for my head. I chuckled, dropping him. The sword did nothing, it was proven useless. he growled while tackling me. I roared, wrestling with him, my claws tearing at his shirt as he fought. I bit down hard on this helmet, breaking it. but not enough to crush his skull. He screamed curses at me while tossing his useless sword down in disgust. “If my bloody sword fails, then my hands will succeed!” He called out to me, his eyes aflame in rage. He attacked my shoulder throwing me forcefully to the ground. I howled in pain as he got ready to leap upon me.

Moving quickly, I rose, attacking him furiously with my claws, tearing deeply into his skin. He was growing weary. The strongest man I had fought was now losing his strength. I attacked again. He stumbled, falling over. I took this chance without thinking and pounced. Pinning him down roughly. I growled at him, “For my son!” I roared, pulling out my bloody dagger and aiming for his heart. To no avail! I roared in rage, the chains held! I could not avenge my son. He laughed at my failed attempt and as he did so his eyes gleamed. He saw something, something that gave him hope. I followed his gaze and laughed. “You can’t lift that sword! No man can!” I cackled loudly.

He saw the giant’s sword that I had hanging on the wall. Beowulf laughed at me throwing me off of him as he raced to the sword. I saw the desperateness in this action as he reached for the hilt. To my horror the pulled it up, breaking it’s chain. He laughed and turned towards me. “No! No! I must kill you! For my son!” I roared looking at him, shaking my head is disbelief. How, how could he lift it! I backed up as he swung the blade and I sobbed, my heart breaking. I had failed my son. My poor Grendel. Dead with not one to mourn him. I watched the blade come down, closer and close to my head. I felt the metal hit me and---


End file.
